


let's dance

by thefudge



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Enemies to Enemies (because that's what i'm about), Existential Crisis, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, handsy, ost: death in vegas - hands around my throat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25697584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: But Lila is a fractured mirror. He gets lost in the reflections. (2x10)
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Lila Pitts
Comments: 20
Kudos: 93





	let's dance

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically me inserting some shippy moments in their 2x10 fight scenes because i am #live trash (yes, their ship name is "live" because what else would it be)

He’s fought himself before. He’s fought himself just recently, matter of fact.

But it’s different with her. 

It shouldn’t be. 

If he can predict the trajectory of his younger self, he should be able to pin down an angry little girl. 

But Lila is a fractured mirror. 

He gets lost in the reflections. 

  
  


They teleport together, suspended in mid-space.

In nothingness.

He locks his arms around her, aims for her throat, but she wrestles out of his grip, and they climb atop each other, and they make a ladder out of their bodies, and they spin and spin and _spin_ , until all he can smell is the lavender in her hair. 

  
  
  


“Yeah, I’ve killed before,” she spits the words at him. “It’s always, _always_ personal.”

And Five knows, by her own admission, that she’ll make his death personal too and it’s almost _endearing._ The little maniac will honor him in a way he’s never honored any of his targets. 

“That’s why you’re not cut out to be an assassin," he rasps. He doesn't mean to condescend. Not really. Or maybe he does. Maybe he'd like to show her how it's really done. 

But no - of course not. What he means to say is that there's still time for her, time to stay in the _personal_.

"Oh yeah? Wanna bet your life on that?" she taunts, and they go at it again. 

  
  
  


“Odd feeling, being and not being. Lasts only seconds, but... you feel it, you know? The abyss.”

Five looks up at her. He can feel all of the aches she inflicted on his woefully scrawny body. Lila hovers over him, keeping her boot just short of his throat. 

“I don’t know how you cope with it,” she adds, fighting a small shiver. “It’s pretty fucking awful.” 

Five breathes out. “Yeah well, it’s not enough to copy someone’s powers. You have to actually understand them.” 

“Is that why you’re such a psychotic, unfeeling bastard?” she drawls, kicking his jaw gently. “Is it because you dissolve into nothingness?” 

Five wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth. “Actually, teleportation keeps me sane most days.” 

Lila snorts. “Oh, I see. The abyss is your escape.”

Five heaves a weary sigh. “Are you going to philosophize me to death?”

Lila bites her lip. “Maybe.”

But they both know, deep down, that she won’t kill him, not because he does not deserve it, but because he’s a stupid fucking time lord and she’ll probably need his help to deal with her mother and the entirety of the Commission. 

Still, it hurts like hell to feel your enemy shifting, becoming something larger than yourself. 

Lila wipes a tear. “You still killed them, you know? Even if she faked the order.” 

Five nods, looking remorseful, to his credit. 

Is it all an act, she wonders? 

Without warning, he wraps his hands around Lila’s ankle, lodging her boot in his chest. Lila feels his cold fingers on her skin and the contact is even more eerie than sharing his power. 

Five licks his lips. “Death isn’t really an end for people like us. You could grab a suitcase, go back in time and stop your parents from dying. You could even leech off me. You know I can travel through time, so, if your succubi powers work correctly, you should too. Trouble is, you never know what else you’ll change if you take that chance. And you tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that it’s worth it if they get to live. And you’ll do it anyway, you’ll save them...but somehow, death will follow you wherever you go.”

Lila wants to remove his fingers, but she’s still frozen to the spot.

“You said death isn’t an end for people like us.”

“True. It’s an endless loop. It keeps going and going…” he trails off, fingers tapping the hollow bone of her ankle, “finding infinite varieties to torture us.” 

He’s almost gentle when he yanks her foot and drags her down. 

Lila hits the ground without even sensing it. 

He’s crawled on top of her, and he's holding her arms above her head. 

How did he do that? Where does he get the strength? 

“You wanna know about the real abyss?” he drawls, fringe falling in his eyes. “It’s waiting for you in 1993. You’ll save the people you love and it won’t matter.” 

Lila bares her teeth at him. “Why are you telling me this?” 

He smiles a cold smile. “Just preparing you for the disappointment and heartbreak, that’s all.”

“Like you actually give a shit.” 

“I don’t, but I don’t want you to blame me again when things don’t work out.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks for the tip. Here’s another. Fuck you.” 

There’s a strange, impish glint in his eye. “No, thanks. You’re a little too young for me.” 

He releases her with a jolt. 

Lila looks around her, disoriented. She’s surrounded by his family. They have her cornered in this stupid barn, just like he wanted. 

But Diego is the one who comes forward and takes her in his arms, looks at her like he loves her, tries to make her understand they only want to help her. They don’t have to be strangers. They can be her real family. They know what it’s like to be her. 

Lila lets his words wrap her in a warm blanket, while her mind still churns in the cold. 

She looks over his shoulder at Five.

It dawns on her now what he’d meant. _You’re a little too young for me._

She frowns at the lecherous old man stuck inside the child’s body. 

Or maybe the child is just as lecherous. Maybe there’s no part of him that isn’t tainted. He may be surrounded by family, he may even love them in his own way, but he’s part of the nothingness. The abyss looks like a thirteen year-old boy.

 _Sick fuck_ , she mouths over Diego’s shoulder. 

Five gives her a cheery smile, a terrifying form of recognition, and a reminder that she will never quite pin him down. 

She smiles back, faintly. 

She’s a faithful mirror, after all. 

And they’ll have this dance again, this century or the next. 


End file.
